


Ordinary World

by TheLostWeasley



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Dreaming, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Hurt Eliot, M/M, Quentin Coldwater Deserved Better, Quentin Coldwater Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostWeasley/pseuds/TheLostWeasley
Summary: Eliot is grieving and not handling it well. Eventually, he goes to Fillory to say goodbye to Quentin and the life they had together. He ends up finding happiness there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was sad and upset over the end of the forth season and this happened. 
> 
> Title from Green Day's Ordinary World. 
> 
> Shout out to my beta for going through this!

To put it simply, Eliot was an idiot. 

A jackass. 

A twat. 

A flaming pile of monkey shit. 

He was the stupidest motherfucker in history. 

Once they were back in their own time, he watched Q bare his soul and offer his heart to  _ him _ \-  _ Eliot _ . 

And  _ oh _ , he wanted it.

Quentin was right. 

They would work. They both knew they would work. Fifty damn years together showed them that. Fifty short years. It hadn’t been enough, and there was Q, offering and asking for another fifty, promising the love and trust that came with it. 

And Eliot’s dumbass had said  _ no _ . 

He'd turned down  _ Quentin Coldwater _ .

And for what? Because he was terrified of actually living out the rest of his days with Q? Of the commitment that went with it? Of actually allowing himself to have something  _ real _ ? Of letting himself be  _ happy _ ? 

Being trapped in his own mind had made him confront his feelings. He knew he had made the biggest mistake turning Q down. He'd promised himself and the Q in his memory that he’d be brave enough to take Q up on his offer. Eliot knew it wouldn’t be too late. 

But it was. 

Q was gone. 

_ Dead _ . 

They somehow managed to get the monster out of Eliot. He was in control of his body and mind again, but Q wasn’t there. 

He couldn’t breathe when they told him. His lungs burned and his heart felt like it had cracked in half, an even split down the middle.

Was this how Q had felt when Eliot died in the mosaic timeline? Or did he accept it peacefully? Q was never as dramatic as he was, but he did have his moments. 

He didn’t even get to tell Q he loved him. 

Eliot couldn’t go back to Brakebills and he didn’t want to go to Fillory, but Margo dragged him back by the ear and demanded he help her run the kingdom. He wasn’t much help. He mostly stayed in bed. He didn’t really feel like doing much. He didn’t even want to go back to the normal world to binge-watch shows. He just wanted quiet, to remember the time he did get with Q.

Over a month into his grieving, Margo finally said something, instead of hovering over him with worry. She got in bed with him and he instantly curled into her. Her fingers carded through his hair soothingly. 

“He wouldn’t want this, El. You need to get your ass out of this bed and do something,” she told him as softly as she could. 

“He can’t really want anything.” His voice sounded rough to his ears. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“You don’t understand, bambi.” 

Margo’s hand paused. “Our friend is dead, and it hurts like a kick in the balls from Ember, but you can’t lay in bed forever.” 

“We were more than friends,” he muttered mostly to himself. 

“One disaster of a threesome doesn’t make you more than friends.” 

“Can you just let me be fucking sad?” He could feel the tears prickling at his eyes. 

The result of their night together hadn’t been the best. Alice was pissed at all of them, in a time when they needed to work together, but the anger directed at all of them had been well deserved. 

They were all drunk out of their minds. Eliot would have slept with anyone that night, even Todd. He was so glad he stumbled by Margo’s room. It was a surprise to find his two best friends making out, but it was the  _ best _ kind of surprise. His alcohol influenced brain decided to join them. He always liked Q, from the moment he made his way onto the Brakebills campus. 

He remembered that they kissed, and slowly, the thought of Margo there disappeared. Only him and Quentin existed. He remembered how good Q felt against him, how well they fit together. 

Then they woke up to Alice sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at Q with hurt and betrayal in her eyes. Eliot was the reason they broke up.  _ He  _ broke them up and he  _ was _ sorry. Alice was great, but he didn’t regret it. He would’ve done it again, sober though, so he wouldn’t just have flashes of how Q felt and sounded. 

It made Eliot realize how much he wanted to be with Quentin. He thought it was barely a crush, but it was so much more than that. 

He wanted everything with Q.

*****

A number of weeks later, Margo dragged him out of bed with the help of Julia. Margo shoved him into a bath and demanded he get himself clean because he stunk like the swamps to Castle Blackspire. 

When he got out, Margo threw some clothes at him and told him to get dressed. The clothes fell to the floor. 

“We’re going clubbing bitch.” She walked out of the room, her short dress not moving an inch on her thighs. 

The last thing Eliot wanted to do was to go to a club, but he knew he wouldn’t have a say in the matter. Margo was clearly sick of seeing him be a lump of shit. He knew she cared. He wished she cared a little less. 

At least the bath had felt nice. 

They went to a club in Manhattan. The line was out the door, but that didn’t stop Margo or Julia from going right up to the bouncer and magicking them into the club. 

He followed the girls to the bar, where Margo shoved two shots of whiskey in his hands. He didn’t even want them. He wanted to feel numb. 

Eliot downed the shots anyway. 

Then he was dragged to the dance floor. It used to be so normal for him to just walk into a club, drink, and dance with the warm, moving bodies around him. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Everyone was dancing against each other and moving freely, accidentally bumping into others. The thump of the music rattled his body and the loudness of it made it so he couldn’t hear. He didn’t want to be there. 

His eyes zeroed in on the exit, but before he could make his escape out of the mess of people, he felt hands on his waist and hands on his shoulders. Margo was in front of him. He turned his head back to see Julia, a small smile on her lips. They moved against him and made him move. The alcohol was starting to get to him. His head was becoming deliciously fuzzy and his body weightless. 

Eliot gave into the girls and the alcohol. 

Eventually, he was damp with sweat. His shirt and hair were soaked, the sweat from his hair dripping onto his face. 

The girls were still in front and behind him, but they kissed over his shoulder. They could only reach because they were in heels. He turned his head to give them some sort of privacy. 

His heart stopped. 

He swore he saw Quentin leaving the club. He craned his neck to see better and made an attempt to move so he could follow but the girls secured him in their arms. 

He was going crazy. 


	2. Chapter 2

Eliot knew it was just his alcohol-induced mind. He knew Quentin couldn’t be alive. He was so filled with grief he thought he was seeing his dead lover. 

He went back to Fillory without Margo or Julia. He didn’t want to ruin their fun time in Manhattan and he had something to do in Fillory. 

He went to the mosaic, a basket of peaches and plums in his hand. He ate them through the weeks he stayed there. 

One day, Eliot knew it was time to say goodbye to Quentin. 

He sat in the middle of the finished mosaic with the basket next to him. 

A year into their frustration of trying to figure out the mosaic, Q was nervous, but it wasn’t anything new. Q acted nervous a lot, stumbling and fumbling over his words, usually taking him a moment to spit out the words. He had started to say something, like he was trying to say something important, but instead of using his words, Q surged forward and kissed Eliot, just a quick press of his lips. It was more than just their usual friendly peck on each other’s cheek. It had intent. It was unexpected and was over just as quickly as it started. 

It was just a simple kiss, but it had Eliot’s heart thumping in his chest and rushing in his ears. 

He’d thought and dreamed about kissing Q like that, sweet and innocent. Usually, Eliot was making the first move in his fantasy. He never let himself think about it, at least not for too long. He couldn’t. It was too much to think about what he could never have, what he didn’t deserve. 

Eliot had to think about then. Q made him. It felt too right to not think about it. He should have known that only Q could make a kiss feel like it was the first for both of them, like they were both inexperienced. Like they hadn’t done it before in a drunken haze. 

He saw the sheepish grin on Q’s lips. He was waiting for Eliot’s response. Eliot felt his own stupid smile stretch across his lips. He slid his hand over Quentin’s, giving a gentle squeeze to tell him it was OK. Eliot reached forward with his other hand, tracing his thumb along his jaw and cupping the back of Q’s neck. He leaned in, pressing their lips together.

They kissed longer, still slowly and gently. They kissed until the fire put itself out. Then they kissed until they couldn’t stay awake. 

They fell asleep on the unfinished mosaic, their hands still entwined together and their foreheads almost touching.

Eliot woke up like that. 

The sun was just starting to come up, making the sky bright orange. Quentin was still sleeping, his breathing even and heavy. He looked peaceful, relaxed. Between their kissing and sleeping, Q’s hair started coming out of the small bun he had it wrapped up in. Eliot tucked a loose hair behind his ear as softly as he could. He realized quickly that he wanted to wake up to Quentin every morning. 

He watched as Q’s relaxed features became pinched and alert, his eyes slowly blinking open. Q smiled at him, his eyes crinkling adorably at the corners. Then Q surged forward, pressing his lips to Eliot’s and rolling on top of him. The unexpectedness of it made Eliot break the kiss and laugh. 

Then Arielle came along with her peaches and plums. Quentin and Eliot’s relationship didn’t change, it only got stronger and they got the added bonus of Arielle. She was down to Earth, sweet, and kind, and for whatever reason, she loved them both. 

When she told them she was pregnant, Eliot and Quentin internally freaked the fuck out until she gave birth. They were both messes of human beings and magicians. How could they raise a kid? Then they held Teddy in their arms and melted. They looked at each other and knew they would be OK. 

They were left to raise Teddy with Arielle when she passed away, not long after Teddy turned five. 

Eliot and Quentin watched him grow, all while trying to finish the mosaic. Their frustrations with it disappeared and it became their part-time job. Teddy was their first priority. 

When Teddy was twenty, he left to live his own life. 

They went back to trying to figure out the puzzle that was the mosaic, hoping to get the Time Key and finish the quest to save magic. 

The mosaic never got finished. Not until Eliot died. 

Then they never technically lived the mosaic because their past selves got the key from Margo, but they remembered, all because of some damn peaches and plums. 

Eliot wiped away the tears that spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. 

“ _ Fuck _ , I miss you, Q,” he said to himself, to Q, and the universe, to anyone or anything that wanted to listen to his sob story. 

“Maybe if you stayed in one place long enough,” he heard Q mumble. 

Eliot whipped around. 

Quentin was standing at the edge of the mosaic, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other brushing some hair behind his ear. 

“ _ Quentin? _ ” 

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was literally going crazy. He was going to have to go back to New York, check himself in a hospital because he was seeing his dead soulmate. 

_ What the fuck?  _

“I don’t know how I’m here. I was in the Underworld and then I was in Fillory,” Quentin explained, kicking some dirt around with his foot. 

“What the fuck, Q?  _ How? _ … I’m going crazy, aren’t I?” He wasn’t sure who he was asking. “I can’t even blame alcohol or drugs. I haven’t taken any in months. Unless I have. Oh god.” 

Quentin sat in front of him, placing his hands on Eliot’s shoulders and shook him. 

“Eliot, I’m real. Margo and Julia saw me. She said you were probably here.” 

Eliot looked at him,  _ really  _ looked at him and rested a hand on Q’s arm. He looked and felt solid. He looked like he was  _ actually  _ sitting in front of him. 

“ _ Q? _ ” He let out in a rush of breath. He was finally able to breathe easily again.

Q smiled. “Hey, El.” 

**Author's Note:**

> HUGS FOR EVERYONE


End file.
